


A Million Miles From Home

by Myrime



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hope, Hurt Tony, Infection, Lost in space - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Stab Wound, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrime/pseuds/Myrime
Summary: Stranded in space, Tony knows he is going to die, whether it will be from infection, starvation, or the lack of oxygen. He has been running from his fate since he flew that nuke through the wormhole. This time, at least, he won't be dying alone.





	A Million Miles From Home

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Whumptober 2019](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/) Day 8: Stab Wound
> 
> Enjoy!

The wound gets infected. Of course, it does. Tony has built his suits to withstand extensive damage and to administer first aid so he can keep standing long enough to get to Medical. Being stranded in space with no hopes of reaching a hospital within a reasonable time frame never really registered as a possible emergency – and that despite him having nearly died in space before.

As it is, the infection might at least kill him before the starvation does, or the lack of oxygen. Since the engine failed, all three scenarios have become rather likely.

The fever and the lack of nutrients leave him no quiet minute. He sees Peter dying in his arms whenever he closes his eyes. He worries about what he will find back on Earth. If Rhodey or Pepper are gone too, it might be the better option not to get back at all.

Nebula is a soothing companion. She does not have much regard for the limits of a human body, and Tony is almost convinced she would have left him on Titan if he had not pulled his weight in getting the ship back into shape. As little good as it did them.

They do not talk much at first, both caught in their grief and their anger, wanting to forget what happened while wishing to enact their revenge. They are a good team in steering the ship while breeding. At least until the engines die.

“Thanos knows you,” Nebula says when they have tried everything to get the ship running again.

They are sitting in the cockpit, staring at the vast expanse of empty space in front of them, wondering if this is the last thing they will ever see.

Tony imagines the stars being blocked out by the Chitauri ships, imagines them being swallowed by a leviathan. His fear has not abated by meeting the creatures’ master.

“I’ve seen his army before,” Tony says, unable to meet Nebula’s eyes, even while he feels them burning into him.

What a pair they make. Thanos’ daughter and the man who could not stop him despite knowing he was coming.

“When he sent Loki to Earth.” Nebula nods as if there is nothing strange about that. Perhaps she remembers Thanos’ disappointment at Loki’s failure. Perhaps she thought she could have done a better job.

Tony has not yet asked her why she ended up on their side of the fight. Losing her sister might have been the reason, but there is too much resentment buried in Nebula’s movements, too much desperation.

He is glad to have an ally, even a tentative one. If he were stranded in space alone after seeing his entire team disintegrate – he is sure he would have never even made it this far.

“I sent a nuke after him,” Tony says and even manages a smile. They were all still so young back then. The Avengers were still full of opportunity instead of old grudges. “I should have died back then.”

Tony has stopped counting the times he should have died. Has stopped weighing it against the reasons to live. He never really liked the answers he got from that.

“You’re going to die from this,” Nebula says solemnly, looking at him with old eyes.

Tony turns to look at her, away from the stars. “Yes.” Another small smile. He is ready.

Nebula leans forward, reaches out as if to touch him but stops herself a few inches over his feverish skin.

“You’re _not_ going to die from this,” she says, and maybe that is what she has been saying all along. He is not sure. He does not even know which version he prefers.

Death is just another old friend. He has been waiting patiently at every turn Tony took. Perhaps it is time to stop avoiding him. He has let enough friends down already.

“Thanos does not just remember anyone’s name,” Nebula remarks quietly.

Her thoughts circle around the same topics Tony’s does. About loss and their defeat, about whether Thanos can be stopped, even though the worst has already happened.

“I’d say I feel honoured,” Tony replies without humour, “but frankly I don’t care.”

Nebula gets up abruptly, leaving him to his fever dreams, to his fears flashing in front of his eyes. Nothing new here. Only that they have all come true.

The ship is not big enough for them to never run into each other. Neither of them wants to be alone anyway, although they would not admit to it. Nebula is quiet. Any other time, Tony might have talked for the both of them, tried to put her at ease, to open up. Now, however, he simply joins her in silence and they fit together well despite that.

Tony does not know what to do with himself. He is in constant pain, the fever makes him see things that are not there. He hears Peter’s last words over and over. He wonders what he could have done to keep his world from falling apart.

Pepper has always prophesized that Iron Man would kill him. First the palladium poisoning, then being targeted, then ending up on the wrong side of Captain America’s shield. Now he got stabbed by his own invention. It does not matter whether it was Thanos’ hand guiding the sword, or whether it is the infection killing him. This is Tony’s own doing.

He still has so many regrets. More now than when he left Earth. He should have known there is no escaping them.

The thing is, he does not particularly want to go back to Earth. He has seen his entire motley group of fighters disintegrate into dust on Titan. If he does not go back, they will all still be alive. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy. Even Steve and the rest of the Avengers. He will not have to grieve any more people, will not have to look May and confess that he could not save Peter. He will not have to search for a way to save everyone and fail.

“This will help.”

Nebula appears next to him suddenly. He does not know when he last saw her. It could have been hours, could have been days. If she does not want to be seen, she disappears, no matter how hard he looks. Tony wishes he could do the same, could escape his own constant scrutiny.

She thrusts something into his face. It looks like a mixture between a tube and a soldering iron. It is nothing to eat and it does not look like they will get the engines running with it. Perhaps Nebula is offering him an assisted suicide to end his suffering.

“What –” he asks but stops himself. He is not sure he wants to know. Less so when he sees the impatience on her face.

“It’s for the wound,” Nebula prompts.

Without further ado, she tugs at Tony’s shirt while pushing him back into the pilot’s seat. He still looks when she pulls off the bandages, revealing the oozing mess underneath.

The wound is not big as much as it is deep. The blade did not cut any vital organs or Tony’s suffering would have been over much sooner. If Thanos had done it right, Tony would not have needed to see Peter die. He could have gone home before that.

The nanites Tony applied helped to stitch his insides together, but what is left is still an ugly crater of inflamed skin and burning flesh. Considering how much punishment Tony put his body through over the course of his life, it is a miracle how well it fights against the infection. If this was a full-blown sepsis, he would not manage to be upright at all anymore.

“This will hurt,” Nebula says. That is the only warning Tony gets before she lowers her technical wand down on his skin and pushes.

It does hurt. More than the actual stabbing. More than the various forms of torture the Ten Rings put him through. It feels like his insides are torn apart and someone is branding him at the same time.

For several agonizing minutes, Tony is caught between wanting to scream and clawing at his skin. He struggles, unable to think clearly. In his weakened state, he pushes against Nebula’s arm and chest, tries to keep her away from him. She does not even budge. She does not tell him to stop either, she simply keeps doing her work, without pity or anger.

Then the pain becomes too much and Tony welcomes the darkness pulling him under gladly. Perhaps his life will look brighter when he comes back to consciousness.

* * *

The stars look the same when he opens his eyes. They are teasing him from far away, laughing at these two insignificant beings trapped in eternity.

Tony breathes while he keeps himself very still, afraid of the pain he clearly remembers. There is still an ache originating from his side, and he still feels clammy, feverish. The agony he has come to accept as his new normal is dampened, though.

When he stirs, he does so abruptly, sitting up straight in the pilot’s seat. It does hurt, but it is more like the pulling of a bruise than the grinding of inflamed flesh against itself.

“You’re awake,” Nebula says.

She is sitting next to him, looking him over with somewhat less detachment than he has come to expect of her. Tony hopes she is not going soft. Dying in space is hard enough without losing someone else he cares for. Then again, it might already be too late for that.

He does not know what she has done, but he feels much better already. Still weak, still grieving, still aching, but he is not on death’s door anymore. He cannot help but think that she should not have wasted that miracle on him.

“Why would you do that for me?” he has to ask, unable to think of a reason on his own.

_Why would you save me? Why would you not take the chance of having more oxygen and water for yourself?_

She scoffs as if she knew what he was thinking. “Thanos is afraid of you,” she then say. If she really thinks that, they remember the fight on Titan very differently. Only one of them is afraid and it certainly is not the one who just won the war. “And the Wizard gave up the Time Stone for you.”

Tony closes his eyes, breathing against the instant panic flooding his system. Strange had promised he would not do this, that he would not give the stone up for anything and certainly not for Tony. His life would have been a small price to pay if they could have stopped Thanos for it, if only they could have kept the stone out of his hands.

“I didn’t ask him to,” Tony says. It is nothing more than a whisper, thanks to the shame he feels at having to admit his part in failing the entire universe.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Nebula speaks up impatiently. She does not look like she is angry at Strange giving their chance away. “He was a guardian. He wouldn’t have given up the stone if it weren’t for a purpose.”

What purpose could be good enough to damn half the universe for? Strange said he could see the future, that he watches fourteen billion paths and that they won only one of them. What good is it to save Tony’s life if he is only going to die now, adrift in space?

“It’s done,” Tony says, almost choking on the words. “We’ve lost.”

Nebula looks at him like he has said something stupid, like she thought better of him.

“The stones are as old as the universe,” she says, disgust in her tone that has nothing to do with their mission. “What has been done with them can be undone.”

Tony shakes his head and welcomes the dizziness that comes with it. He does not want to hear this, does not want to be caught in highly hypothetical hopes where this is not their reality, where they do not have a way out. Having hopes only leads to getting crushed worse than before. He is sure he cannot deal with the terrifying ordeal of piecing himself together again. 

“We failed,” he says with as much firmness as he can muster. “You saw it. We weren’t – we weren’t enough and now they’re dead. And I – Peter –”

Tony will never be able to forget the way Peter clung to him, becoming less with ever breath, feeling every second of his death where the others simply faded away.

“I lost my sister,” Nebula snaps him out of his memories. Grief clings to her voice, but she is still holding onto her anger. “We haven’t been close but – we can’t let him get away with it.”

Thanos already got away with it. It is done.

“Without the engines, we’re not going anywhere,” Tony says, reaching for a tangible reason of why they will not be able to save the universe, just so he does not have to say that he does not think he can do it.

Strangely, Nebula’s expression softens. It is barely enough to notice, but Tony has looked at her a lot over the past days, the only living thing within thousands of lightyears.

“Sleep, Stark,” she says, sounding almost soft enough that Tony could believe she has a plan. “Your wound should get better now.”

And then what? They are still going to die out here. They have still failed. Tony thinks it is still nice that Nebula believes he still has a purpose, that things might not be as hopeless as they look. One of them should have the courage to meet the future head on.

Sleep does sound good, though. He is tired. Their situation will not get worse if he closes his eyes for a bit. Once he wakes, the same stars will greet him, the same empty expanse of space.

Nebula will be here too, at least. That is the one good thing about this entire miserable situation. He will not die alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
